Through and Through
by aschowin
Summary: While hunting down the Horcruxes, Harry proves in every way that even after death, he's still Dumbledore's Man.
1. Prologue

Through and Through - The Cup

Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to Harry Potter or any characters or places in this story, they belong to JK Rowling. I am making no money from this story.

Prologue

Timing is everything. It can be the simplest concept to grasp, but is often the most challenging subject to effect. Yet now the time had come. It should have been a day of liberation; he had dreamt of this moment for as long as he could remember. Still, Harry felt somehow he had missed something.

It wasn't in the planning or details, he had thought long and hard about what he had to do. For once, all of his belongings were carefully packed in his trunk. Actually, he had scarcely removed anything from it. This Spartan life was something he expected would soon be common where he was going. The small bed, ragged desk, and wardrobe were the only things left in his room.

The only matter now was actually leaving. He knew he would never return to this house or see his only remaining relatives again, and the life and relationship that he could have had with them, was the thing that was missing. Through the years he had always wondered what his life would have been like if his parents had not been murdered. Though now that he was going for good, he had found himself thinking of what the Dursley's meant to him. In any case, his decision was made, and his path laid out. The time was right.

As the clock turned to 6:30 AM he released Hedwig from her cage, and gathered his trunk, closing the door for the last time. Harry set his things by the door and entered the kitchen to say his farewell. Aunt Petunia was the only one there; Vernon was just rising for work, and Dudley would be asleep for several more hours.

"Aunt Petunia," he said quietly as she busied herself at the stove, "I'm leaving now. Thought I should let you know."

Petunia stiffened warily as she moved a pan. "Well, then, I expect this is the last we shall see of you," she said tersely.

Harry could only nod his head. After a moment he spoke "Well, take care then," and turning towards the door he added, "and thanks." The door closed behind him and he didn't see her head drop, nor hear the small sigh that escaped her lips. He grabbed the handle of his trunk and Hedwig's cage, and apparated away from the house of his childhood.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to Harry Potter or any characters or places in this story, they belong to JK Rowling. I am making no money from this story.

Author's note: I've posted this story over at and thought I would add it here as well to see if it gets any hits. I owe a great thanks to Katie who did the beta work on this story. I hope that you enjoy what follows.

Chapter 1

It had been three months since Harry had left the Dursleys', and he had never looked back. October was just beginning, bringing the smell of wet leaves on the ground. Harry was becoming more and more familiar with this scent. Late night walks were his one escape, and decaying leaves were in abundance in this neighborhood. This fragrance was exactly the opposite of what he wanted the most, and, coupled with the constant mist, his senses were drowning. Much had happened in that time since he had left. He had visited the Burrow for the wedding of Bill and Fleur. Afterwards, he, Ron, and Hermione, had traveled to the remains of his parents' home in Godric's Hollow; before setting out on their undertaking. That was all just a memory of summer now though, blurred by his reality. Already they had tracked down one of the Horcruxes; the locket.

Now, Harry was lodging at Grimmauld Place with Ron and Hermione. They had come here for safety while they planned their next move, but found it wasn't quite as private as they thought. The Order's continued use of the house as headquarters only impeded their progress. They had spent two weeks discussing what they knew and after many long days and nights they had still not come to any decisions. There were constant distractions and interruptions that were beginning to wear on his patience. While their research had not been a complete waste, Harry knew that there was some clue he was overlooking, something that would lead him to the next Horcrux.

In the meantime, Hermione had taken on the task of researching more about Horcruxes, but there was almost no information available at all. Most important for her had been the knowledge of how to destroy a Horcrux. Until they knew that, Harry was unwilling to risk harming the objects, vividly remembering Dumbledore's hand. Harry and Ron were left to discover more information on the probable locations, and what artifacts might have been used. Strangely, _Hogwarts: A History_ had been their most useful resource, as it provided information on the founders, and the artifacts that had once belonged to them.

Once again, Harry found himself alone in the study, like so many other nights in recent memory; a single candle burning on the desk. The small flame did little to relieve the darkness that seemed to creep through the window. Dark blue shadows, from the storm outside, surrounded him in his loneliness. There was a fire in the grate that burned low, as the wind and rain whispered to him. He sat quietly; trying to recall all that he could about Voldemort's past. Everything, from the once handsome young face and commanding voice, to the burning red eyes, passed through his mind. Places he hardly knew circled in his thoughts; the cave, the orphanage …. the lazy town of Little Hangleton, and Harry dreamt of another country road, one with wild flowers growing along the edges. It lead to a single house surrounded by stone walls. He saw fields that were dotted with clover, and bluebells. It reminded his senses of a sweet scent - Amortentia.

It would be a long time before he would be back there again. It was a choice he made out of love, the first of its kind that he could remember. "Noble" she had called it, but it felt more like he was ripping his own soul apart. Not that Harry would allow himself to change his mind.

It was hardest in the days before the wedding. He had spent those first days of sunshine doubting his own resolve, hiding away in the work that needed to be done. But he had no cause to worry as it turned out that he was only fooling himself. When Ginny told him that she understood, she had meant it. Now Harry could recall how strong she was. There was no bitterness between them, or need for long conversations about his decision. Their love for each other had not changed, only the circumstances that surrounded them. In her own way, Ginny had made him realize this. She knew his heart, the selflessness of his choice, and it was why she loved him. He would deny himself the love and comfort he needed to keep her safe, and Ginny accepted him.

Golden days and warm, star-filled nights slipped by somewhere between the hum of crickets and the scent of primrose. They spoke quietly over shared chores, allowing the preparations for the wedding to replace their need for something more. They danced together at Bill and Fluer's reception, and kissed goodnight at the end of the evening. When it was time for Harry to leave, there were no tears or pleas, just a short embrace, and a lingering moment as her hand left his.

Now she was back at Hogwarts, and Harry was alone with his thoughts. The hours of longing were more painful to him than anything his enemies could conjure.

He sat back in his chair half-heartedly. He needed to put her out of his mind and concentrate. It was a difficult task, considering that he had very little in the way of facts and she was far more pleasant to dream about. He forced his thoughts back to his current undertaking, knowing that he could only be with her again when he had destroyed Voldemort.

Harry had to lean heavily on the guidance that Dumbledore had given him, through the memories, to make any guesses about where to look for the remaining Horcruxes. It didn't really matter which one they found next, it was more of a problem deciding where any of them might be hidden. He could safely rule out the cave, and the Gaunt House. Both had already been searched, and it was highly unlikely that there would be more than one Horcrux hidden in any one location; it would defeat the purpose. Still, there were many places that Voldemort could have chosen to conceal pieces of his soul; Hepzibah Smith's home, the orphanage where he had grown up, Borgin and Burkes, or even the Riddle House itself, or another place entirely.

From what he did know, Voldemort would choose a location significant in his life and rise to power. That didn't necessarily eliminate any of the locations. The Riddle House seemed to be the least likely, and the last place Harry wanted to look. For all he knew Voldemort might actually be there. Further more, the ring had been hidden nearby in the Gaunt House. If that place had been chosen because it was where Voldemort had found the ring, or because it was close to where he had murdered the family of his father, then it wasn't likely that the Riddle house would also be a location for a Horcrux. It was simply too nearby.

This brought Harry's thoughts to Hepzibah Smith's home. The circumstances were very similar to what he knew about the ring. It was where Voldemort found both Slytherin's locket, and Hufflepuff's cup. He had framed another for committing the murder that allowed him to take the objects, just like Morfin. The largest problem, was that he had no idea where she had lived. Finding that information might take months, if it could be found at all. Still, it might be worth looking into.

Borgin and Burkes would be a very poor choice as a hiding place in general. If anything were to be hidden there, it would have to be extremely well concealed, and protected by powerful spells. Also, Harry wasn't sure how significant of a place it would be in Voldemort's view. It had been his first job, that was true, and had led him to find two of his artifacts, but beyond that there wasn't much that would attract Voldemort.

Harry considered the orphanage where Tom had lived as a boy to be the next most likely place, aside from the fact that he had hated that place and the people who had lived there. However, with a little effort Harry was sure he could find where it was. The question was would it be a safe place to conceal something so important? It could be easily masked from Muggles, and wizards would have no reason to be there. As a place where Voldemort had spent so much of his life, it was hard to overlook as a possibility, and it was the first place he had ever collected "trophies".

Wherever they chose to search, Harry wanted to do it soon. They had been idle too long and he was growing restless. Harry pondered his choices for awhile longer, but in the end he decided to try one of the more likely places. He would confer with his friends in the morning, but as the orphanage would be easier to find, that would be the first place they would look.

The night held no promise of anything more that Harry would consider progress. His choice was made and he would move on the next day. He allowed himself to sink further into the chair and drifted off to sleep, the dieing embers and lonely candle his only companions.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to Harry Potter or any characters or places in this story, they belong to JK Rowling. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter 2

Hermione and Ron stood together on the sidewalk, arguing over a map. The orphanage they were looking for should have been on this street, except that none of the buildings looked anything like a home for children. Harry was a few paces in front of them gazing at the old structures.

"I'm telling you it has to be here," Hermione said heatedly. "I'm sure the map is right, we just have to find the right place."

"Well look around you Hermione. It sure doesn't look like we're in the right place," Ron answered, waving his arms at the vacant buildings around them.

Harry, however, was crossing the street. "I think this is it," he said over his shoulder. They looked up for a second before following. His two friends had been going out since the wedding, and their rows were far less frequent.

Harry wasn't exactly surprised by the development in their relationship, it had been a long time coming. In truth, he was actually very happy for them, if a little jealous. It was great that they could find in each other what he had to deny himself, he couldn't hold that against his friends.

For him, the day of the wedding had been a cataclysm of emotions. He was happy for Fleur and Bill, and the Weasley family in general. There was something more though, he knew as that day began that it would end differently for the two people who had been closest to him for so long. He was angry with himself as well, for what he had given up. No matter how much acceptance Ginny offered him, he knew it wasn't right. Life had never treated him fairly and there was no reason it should start now. For every good thing he found in his life, he was also given something far worse. Sacrificing what he had with Ginny was perhaps the hardest to stomach. There was also sorrow for those who couldn't be there with them, and he felt a desire to be doing more. However, no amount of self-pity or righteous indignation would avail him in his work. Anger at the world or himself could not help him, and would not ease the guilt. He had made the choice between what was easy and what was right, now he just had to stick with his decision.

Yet, in his friends he saw a glimpse of a better life as they grew closer together. Ron hardly left Hermione during that evening. And while Harry had spent a few quiet moments with Ginny, his friends had laughed and danced together, and mingled happily with the other guests. Harry could tell that this was the way things were meant to be.

He didn't know at the time if it had been a conscious decision, whether Ron had asked Hermione, or the other way around, or if they had just come to some unspoken agreement. At the end of the night though it didn't really matter. They walked hand in hand back to the Burrow, and stole a moment of privacy as Harry continued on to bed.

Later, Ron had told Harry that he had indeed asked Hermione if she would want to see him. She had, of course, agreed. Ron was almost always trying to help Hermione in her research, and they had taken a few nights off when they couldn't do anymore work. Sometimes they would visit The Leaky Cauldron, while Harry would go off for a walk. Of course he was invited along; they had not once excluded him from their plans. But Harry realized that they needed time of their own as well. A few times he had joined them though, much like the night before. Seeing them together like that served him as a reminder of what he was fighting for, what was waiting for him after this endeavor.

As his friends caught up to him, Harry examined the old orphanage. The building looked abandoned, as did the street they were on. But Harry knew it to be the right place. Grey stone steps led up to large metal doors. Harry placed his hand on a stone column of the entryway. Ron and Hermione stood back and watched as he felt along the frame.

"Alohomora," Harry whispered, as he pointed his wand at the lock. He was slightly surprised that it had been that simple. Cautiously he pushed the door open. This was the place they needed to be. Thick dust had settled on the floor over many years of vacancy. It was amazing that the building had not been demolished. Harry recognized it immediately, although he had never actually been here. He had visited once in Dumbledore's memories. He followed his feet to the staircase, past the office, and slowly began climbing the stairs. On the third floor he turned right, and entered the room where Tom Riddle had once lived.

The walls were tarnished and gray with age. The paint was peeling, and the floorboards were splintered. A single bed stood against the wall next to a chair, and there was a broken wardrobe across the room. It began to feel as though what he was looking for was not here. Still, Harry walked around the room while Ron and Hermione waited at the door. Carefully, he examined the bed and chair, and finally the wardrobe that had once held young Tom's trophies. He steadied his will and turned the knob. Inside, the wardrobe was just as dusty as the floor it rested on. Harry touched the shelves but could feel nothing. It seemed as though this was not the place after all.

Harry drew his wand and pointed it inside the wardrobe. "_Specialis Revelio_," he spoke the incantation, but nothing happened. There was nothing significantly magical here, only the vaguest traces that there ever had been. Flattened, he put his wand away. "We can search the rest of the building, but I don't think there is anything here." He sat on the bed, feeling very disappointed.

Hermione sat next to him, looking deep in thought. "Well, Harry, where do we go from here?" she asked.

"I don't know really. I mean, Voldemort could have hidden these things almost anywhere. I have a few other guesses, but that is all they are for now." Harry said sedately. "I think our best bet is to go back to Grimmauld Place and start looking again." With that the three friends Disapparated, leaving nothing but the dust and broken furniture.

The trip had turned out to be a complete waste, Harry thought as he hung his traveling cloak in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. He knew the next likely place he would find a Horcrux was at the home of Hepzibah Smith. He had little information to go on though, apart from her name and that of her house-elf. It would be difficult to learn anything else without some outside help. She had been a well to do woman who lived alone, though she had relations. Smith was a common name, even among wizards. Harry was at a loss as to where he should begin looking.

As they sat down for lunch, Harry reflected on their progress so far. At the least, they had already found one of the four Horcruxes remaining before he could face Voldemort. Also they had Dobby, he mused, looking at the spread on the table. Indeed, the house-elf had joined Harry, shortly after he had started on his quest. He came to Harry from Hogwarts, to inform him of the passing of Kreacher. Dobby had then begged to be allowed to help Harry Potter and his friends in their noble work. Hermione had frowned at the idea, until Harry offered to pay Dobby. Now, Harry was quite glad that he had accepted the offer. Dobby cooked and cleaned, and the house had not looked better in many years, and Harry was sure to give lots of praise and thanks to his friend, especially as it kept Hermione off his back.

Dobby's help notwithstanding, Harry feared that they were not making enough headway. There were three Horcruxes still to be found. They had limited ideas about where or what each one would be, and the best he could say about the one they had found, was that they were lucky. Of course, they had had the information they needed already and it was in a place they knew. It was just a matter of figuring out the riddle of "R.A.B.", which had taken help from Fred and George. Whether you called it luck, coincidence, or just a foolish accident, didn't really matter to Harry. In the end, he had been gifted with a piece of Voldemort's soul, and it was doubtful that any of the others would be found so effortlessly.

It had been on a day similar to today, the mist had parted just enough to allow the flaxen haze of the sun warm the ground outside. The Dementors had temporarily moved on. They would be back soon enough, Harry knew, as it had happened a few times before. Hermione and Ron had just gone up to the study, searching through books for any references on Horcruxes. Harry had decided to practice his non-verbal spells, recalling the night he had last seen Snape.

He remembered choosing the drawing room for privacy, but as he had progressed, he had gotten the odd sensation that he was not alone. Peculiar sounds reached his ears: the creak of a floorboard, or an inaudible whisper.

Turning himself slowly in a circle, he took an appraising look at the room around him. Nothing seemed out of place; that is, until he saw a large shadow near the tapestry of the Black Family Tree. He continued to turn. Someone, or something, was definitely there.

Quite suddenly, and to the amazement of his would-be stalkers, ropes shot out of his wand and bound them tightly. It was only with the outraged yells of Fred and George that Harry realized there had been some mistake. Quickly he banished the ropes and rushed over to help them to their feet, only to find that he couldn't actually see them. It took a moment before they made themselves visible again, but that instant was all Harry needed. His eyes had drifted to Sirius's spot on the tapestry, passing over the name of Sirius's brother, Regulus.

From there, it had been a short bit of research to find that Regulus fit the likely description of the person who had stolen the locket. Their search of Grimmauld Place yielded the very thing they had been looking for, hidden - in all places - in Kreacher's old closet.

As for George and Fred, they had stopped by to find Moody, and experiment with their new vanishing elixir. Seeing Harry had presented them with a prime opportunity for testing, and perhaps a bit of mischief. It was a mistake they had only repeated a single time since.

As relieving as that episode had been, it didn't help him much with his current lack of results. The only option he had at the moment was to blindly search the locations he had already chosen, and hope.

Quietly, he pulled a plate of sandwiches to himself and began to eat. Hermione shared the only good news of the day, in that she thought she was close to finding the information they needed about Horcruxes. She didn't give many details, but apparently she had found a book that gave something more definitive than anything they had yet found. She wouldn't say from where or who the book came, only that she had not yet finished reading it. That was to be her task for the next few days though. In the meantime, Harry had some tough decisions to make, before he could advance his search for the next Horcrux.


End file.
